


Shifter

by ltskiki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Supportive Dean, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Winchester, brief suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltskiki/pseuds/ltskiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam will do anything to be himself, even hunting down a shape shifter alone. (Very mild gore, shifters shedding skin mentioned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifter

Sam Winchester was done with this shit. This literal shit. 

Deciding to track down the shape shifter solo was easier said than done. At 14, it wasn’t his first time hunting alone, but he wasn’t used to the environment being so..smelly.

Covering his face with his (well, a hand-me-down of Dean's) shirt, he trekked on, gripping John’s silver knife in his left hand, always keeping it slightly in front of his body. As he kept walking, the plan’s details started slipping from his mind. How was he going to do this? Would it even work? Why didn’t he tell Dean instead of sneaking out at night?

Sam shook his head, clearing the doubts from his head. Dean wouldn’t understand. No one could understand this until it was over.

The stench of the sewer grew overpowering, but this time it was different; organic, like rotting meat. He was close. 

“Hello?” A light voice called, causing Sam to flatten against the grimy walls.

“You don’t have to hide, stay awhile!” Laughter tinkled out from the large chamber in front of him. This is it.

“I would put that away if I were you.” 

She (or they, Sam wasn’t quite sure if shifters really fit into the gender binary) was short, with long hair that touched the small of her back. Her eyes glowed a fluorescent white and Sam knew he should just agree and beg for his life. Slowly, he skidded the knife across the floor to the shifter. He was so fucking stupid for thinking this would work.

“I’m Emily. Have a seat.” She smiled, almost sweetly, her found face revealing deep dimples.

Sam sat down on the red upholstery uncharacteristically placed near a pipe splattering out green sludge.

“So, I guess you’re here to kill me?” She paused as Sam started shaking his head.  
“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me, little man. Just don’t provoke me and we won’t have a problem.”

Sam shifted in his seat, unsure of what to do. Monsters usually didn’t invite him to chat.

“So, any questions? About,” She gestured to her body “All this?”

“How can I be like you?” Sam blurted out. 

Her smile grew wider.  
“I’m not sure. I can be like you though, sweetheart.”

“Emily”s body started to change, skin peeling off in waves, her state becoming smaller and thinner as she became a spitting image of Sam. Her hair shrunk to her shoulder, darkening to his signature brown.

“Oh man,” She laughed. “Your mind is really fucking me up right now, I need a second.” She gingerly sat onto the couch opposite from him.

Sam’s knees were shaking. He could feel the sweag on his forehead grow cold. She knew.  
“And what to we have here?” The other Sam says, pulling the band of her pants away from her.

“Looks like we got ourselves an innie!”  
Sam couldn’t breathe. His throat was closing up.

“This isn’t what you want, is it, little man? If that’s what you really are.”

Sam shook his head, unable to speak as the beast in front of him started to change again.

She looked the same at first, but then slowly started to grow a few inches taller, with a squarer jaw, and the flannel and jeans dropped to the ground.

Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes as he took in the bare chest of what he could be.

“Better?” It was his face, even better than his, but with that same twisted smile.

“Please.” Sam gasped. “Let me be like you. I can’t take this! I can’t live like this anymore!”

Sam’s masculinized twin had a hint of pity in her eyes for a moment, then it washed away. “You’re a little freak, aren’t you? You’re born a shifter, I can’t ‘change’ you.”

“What should I do?” Sam let the tears roll down his chin.

“I’m not your fucking therapist. Maybe get a surgeon who’ll deal with your sorry ass?” Her eyes flashed.

“I could just put you out of your misery right now.”

Sam sat still. He knew he should react, grab for the knife, or even try to run, but he didn’t. Was this what he wanted? To spend the rest of his life in a mass of bras and ‘ma'ams’? Was the shifter right?  
Before he could process it any longer, something whizzed past his ear, and the shifter cried out. 

“Sam!” a familiar voice came from the sewer entrance, but Sam kept his eyes on the shifter. He watched his ideal self bubble up and disappear into an unintelligible pile of flesh.

He finally looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Dean looked at him, and Sam could tell he heard everything from the look on his face. Sam’s eyes welled with tears as he started to turn away, but Dean grabbed him into an awkward hug, mostly just crushing Sam’s small frame with his body.

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped.”

“How? That didn’t fix anything!”

Dean’s face crumpled in thought. “You know there are non magical ways to uh, change right?“

Sam sighed. “I don’t have enough money for any of that. Beside, Dad would never let me.”

The older boy’s eyes lit up. “Well, you know this shifter was a bank robber, right?”

Sam was going to say sometime about hunting ethics and how they should give anything they can back to the bank, but he decided to let it go, just this once.

After a few minutes of digging, the brothers found a plastic bag in a drain filled to the brim with hundred dollar bills.

“Are you sure about this, Sam?” Dean asked, knowing how his little brother had a very active conscience.

Sam shrugged. “We can donate whatever we don’t use.”

-three months later-

"Dean!” The 18 year old leapt off the couch after hearing a loud clanking noise coming from the bathroom.

“Dean, look!” Sam exclaimed, pointing proudly at a thin coat of stubble on his chin. Dean smiled and ruffled his younger brother’s hair.

“Guess I’ll have to teach you how to shave now.”

Sam’s eyes drooped “Why? Can’t I just leave it?”

Dean laughed “Just because you can grow some pubes on your face doesn’t mean you should. No 14 year old looks good with a beard.”

Sam snorted and punched his older brother lightly on the shoulder.

“Woah, someone’s getting stronger!” He commented, admiring the biceps and broadening shoulders of his best friend.  
Sam looked extremely proud, flexing between laughter.

“And this binder works great too! I wa worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe or something.”

“Well, breathing is always a plus.”

Dean soaked in the moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his little brother so happy. Just a few months ago he was ago scrawny, depressed kid who didn’t see any options for himself. Now he was studying harder, and even looking up potential colleges. Dean thought it might have had to do with a ‘persuasive’ phone call to all his teachers. Nobody was going to misgender his little brother after the rant he was so kind to provide.

“All the ladies are gonna be chasing you soon.”  
“  
Yeah, I’m excited for my next shot!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself He-Man. Too much T could make you really sick.”

Sam smiled up at his brother. Since the first shot he had grown an inch or two, and was nearing the 18 year old’s height.

“Thank you so much, Dean.”

Dean knew he wasn’t just talking about the money for the testosterone, or the binder, or even the compliments to his new body. It was the support that Sam needed, and goddamn deserved.

“No problem, asswipe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love trans Sam so much even if it's only an AU. Dean being super supportive and helping Sam get through high school and making sure no one misgenders him is so important to me omg.


End file.
